Hide and Seek
by x-the-rising-x
Summary: post 3x22 They both hold onto a relationship that deteriorates by the day. What neither of them know is that their reasons for not being able to let go are strongly derived from this feeling that everyone seems to call love. BL.
1. World's Apart

**Hide and Seek**

**Summary: **(post 3x22) They both hold onto a relationship that deteriorates by the day. What neither of them know is that their reasons for not being able to let go are strongly derived from this feeling that everyone seems to call love. BL.

**A/N: **Nothing much to say about this fic, other then that I expect it to be fairly long. I've been toying with the idea of a BL fic from season 4, if they had stayed together. So, enjoy!

**Chapter 1:** _World's Apart_

_To be brave is to love someone unconditionally, without expecting anything in return. To just give. That takes courage, because we don't want to fall on our faces or leave ourselves open to hurt._

- Madonna

She's been a wild child since she hit adolescence. Like wind on the water, Brooke Davis ricochets through life with no apparent pattern, careening past corners and speeding past doors without a sideways glance. But when she hits a wall, she falls. She falls, but won't admit that she bleeds. So she continues to recklessly wander around, continuously wounded.

Her recklessness translates to her driving ability as well, which is why the fact that she narrowly misses slamming her VW Bug into a mailbox in front of Nathan and Haley's building, isn't really anything new. Ignoring the skid marks on the pavement from her parallel parking gone awry, she steps out of the car and ascends the steps to the apartment complex.

The number is 2B, and she could find her way to the door with her eyes closed. She raps silently against the red wood, and it's perhaps two minutes before Haley opens the door.

"Hey, I know it's late, and it's been a long day, but, I need to talk to you."

Haley's hair is up now, although still wavy from the wedding. Brooke feels a pang of guiltiness because it seems as though she's woken her friend up, but Haley obligingly steps aside to let the brunette in.

"Nathan's asleep, so if you came to talk about the pregnancy test, feel free."

Haley's words are unexpected, but Brooke softens as she notes the anxiety in her friend's voice.

"It's just, Lucas found the test today, and, well, he think it's me."

Haley sighs. "I guess that's just a sign that I should suck it up and go to the doctor. It's just, part of me…" her words trail off into nothing.

Brooke nods. She's been in this position before. The unawareness, the apprehension and trepidation. "Part of you doesn't really want to know, right? Because that will make it more real?"

There is a silence – an understanding between the two girls. Because even though when _she_ was in this situation, Brooke was a year younger, less settled and focused, and broken up with the phantom baby's father, she can feel the emotions that Haley feels at this moment. And Brooke knows, that back then she would have given anything to just have a friend with her.

"Come on, I'll drive."

;;;

Lucas Scott is a planner. He's a writer, and a reader, and a thinker. He over evaluates to the extreme, and when things don't go according to plan, he falls. He falls, and doesn't quite know how to pick himself back up.

It's around 9 pm when Skills calls him. Lucas can hear Ryan Adams in the background, a Rock and Roll musician Skills has never been able to ignore.

"It's bad, Luke."

Lucas rolls onto his back on the bed, and stares up at the ceiling. How much worse could this day really get?

"Bad, like 50 Cent giving up music cause Kanye sold more records, or bad like Tupac got shot."

"The latter, man. This is bad. I've got Bevin here, and…here B, you tell him." There's a shuffling and Lucas hears arguing in the background before Skills gets back on the line. "She says she can't do it."

"Do what?" Lucas is getting frustrated, and the longer he waits for this big reveal, the more anxious he gets for Skills to tell him. "Dude, just tell me what's going on."

A pause. A long pause. And then: "Apparently Theresa saw Brooke coming out of Planned Parenthood about a half hour ago."

Lucas is only vaguely aware of hanging up, but not at all of the seconds following the reveal. It's as if a rug has been ripped out from under him, and all the events of the day have faded away. All he sees passing in front of him, like one of those slideshows you apparently see when you die, is a girl in a red dress, with chocolate brown hair and plump lips. And she's crying, crying a river, but he hasn't been able to understand why. Until this moment, he was a planner. Now, Lucas Scott is just lost.

;;;

She doesn't even know why she's here. It's dumb really, but it's not like she has anywhere else to go. Her former best friend can't really hate her anymore than she already does. So the blonde runs to the boy who's never really turned her down, something Peyton Sawyer either takes for granted, or takes advantage of. She's not really sure which.

Nobody ever really knocks in Tree Hill, so he doesn't really seem surprised when she opens the side door to his bedroom. Then she realizes that he's just standing in the center of the room, his coat shrugged onto his shoulders, staring at a fairly uninteresting piece of the carpet, and that she could probably throw a book at him and he wouldn't notice.

"Luke, are you okay?" She feels a little bit guilty for touching him, but she guides him into a chair and kneels down in front of him. "Lucas?" she asks again when he doesn't respond. "Can you hear me?"

He nods, and finally tears his gaze away from the carpet. "I'm just…tired, that's all."

Tired. She knows there's something he isn't telling her, and Peyton can't help but feeling a little wounded that he won't tell her what's wrong. And looking at him now, with his sandy blue eyes and soft blonde hair, she realizes how painful it's going to be to get over him. To give him up_. As if he was hers to begin with. _But she understands that she needs to.

"Do you want me to go? I'll come back later…"

;;;

He really doesn't need her here right now. Not with the death stares Brooke was sending her at the wedding. And Lucas understands that it's wrong to cut Peyton out of his life just because she's fighting with Brooke, but the new development of this evening has made it completely unnecessary for him to talk to anyone but his girlfriend.

"Do you want me to go? I'll come back later…" Her words trail off, as if she's unsure, but Lucas just nods.

And what happens next is one of those moments where honestly, it's just a matter of bad timing. Bad timing, added to the fact that the girl who walks through the door next, also without knocking, currently despises the girl who reaches up to hug Lucas.

Peyton can feel Lucas tense as Brooke walks through the door. He straightens, pushing Peyton away, and turns to his girlfriend.

"Hey Brooke, we were just…"

"I'd like to talk to my boyfriend…alone."

She's hurt – Peyton can hear it in her voice. But if anyone can hide pain, it's Brooke Davis. And if anyone can speak with venom in their voice, that person is Brooke Davis.

She's been fiery and independent since the day she was born – Peyton knows that. And in a weird way, past all the pain and heartache she gets from every look her former best friend shoots at her, the blonde almost feels proud of Brooke. Proud, and perhaps a little bit jealous, that Brooke knows herself so well, at just 17.

;;;

Peyton walks out of the door without a backwards glance. She's been strong and decisive since the day she was born – Brooke knows that. And in a strange way, past all the anger she feels every time she looks the curly blonde in the eyes, the dimples girl almost feels proud of Peyton. Proud, and perhaps a little bit jealous, that Peyton knows herself so well, at just 17.

Brooke Davis has never felt so lost.

They stand together, in his room, which all of a sudden feels so small, and they're only a few feet away from each other, but somehow Brooke still feels worlds apart from him.

"Brooke." He walks up to her, and speaks in a strangled voice, grabbing a hold of her wrist, but gently. "I need to ask you something."

She's taken aback by the pain in his eyes. Brooke knows it's been a long day, but he seems more worn down than he did earlier, like he's seen the whole world in the past few hours. She wants to outline his forehead, creased with worry, and kiss him, and hold him, and taste him, but she can't. She won't let herself.

"Brooke," he repeats, and cuts into her gaze with his icy blue eyes. "I just got off the phone with Skills. He said, well, he said Bevin saw you coming out of Planned Parenthood earlier."

She considers lying. For a split second, Brooke considers telling him that she's pregnant, because she wants him to feel something. Something other than this vision of love that he has so prevalently in his head. She wants him to worry about her – about them.

_"I told him I was pregnant…but I lied. I'm not pregnant. I just – wanted to scare him."_

Rachel's words from earlier ring loudly in Brooke's head. She sags and kindly pulls her arm away. "It's Haley, Luke. Haley's pregnant."

"Oh."

;;;

Something crashes down over him. Waves of relief, and sadness, and shock, and grief, and confusion, all so simultaneously that he can't decipher between them, nor decide how he even feels about the situation.

"Oh," he repeats, and steps back, slightly. Haley. His best friend. The girl who's face he used to rub his smelly armpits in. Haley.

She interrupts his thoughts with a little "ermph," and he looks up. It's not until now that he notes the duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

"I um, kind-of need a place to stay."

She's timid and shy, and won't meet his eyes, but Lucas is more than pleased that she's come to him. Without hesitating, he lifts the duffle from her shoulder and deposits it on the floor. "You don't even have to ask, pretty girl." He expects the nickname to put the shine back in her eyes, but she just smiles a polite, dimple-less smile, the kind she gives to teachers she's sucking up to. "You're always welcome in my room."

She eyes the bed nervously, as if she's forgotten that they're even in a relationship, and she seems so withdrawn that he's almost afraid to touch her.

"Actually," she says, clearing her throat. "I should probably go talk to your mom."

She leaves him in the room, and he just stands there for a few minutes, baffled. Lucas, always prepared, doesn't quite know how to interpret her behavior. Brooke's snuck into his room countless times before to spend the night, but he figures that she's just tired, and that it's been a long day. Hopefully things would be better in the morning.

;;;

Karen is finishing the dinner dishes as Brooke walks into the kitchen. She turns when she hears the shuffling of feet against tile.

"Hi Brooke," says Karen with a warm smile. "I wasn't expecting you here so late."

"Actually, I kind-of was wondering if I could stay on your couch tonight…"

Brooke hates to impose, but Karen is full of understanding, as she assures Brooke that it's fine. She tries to ask the teenager what happened with Peyton but Brooke politely says that it's been a long day, and that she'd probably be more apt to talk about it the next morning.

"Shouldn't you call your parents?" Karen asks after a minute.

Brooke sighs. She had been expecting this. "I'll call them tomorrow, I promise. I can't deal with them tonight. It's too…tiring. I'll talk to them tomorrow…I promise," she repeats, seeing the look on the elder brunette's face.

Karen lets the matters go, and directs Brooke to Lucas to get sheets and blankets for the couch. Upon her entering the bedroom, Lucas immediately tries to offer his bed.

"You take my bed, Brooke. I don't mind the couch, really."

"Don't be ridiculous, Luke," she says. "I'll be fine."

He sighs and moves to the closet. Gathering linens from the top shelf, he deposits the bedding into her arms. Then, it's just a few moments of silence as the two stand somewhat awkwardly in the center of the room.

It's just been one day – barely 12 hours, and suddenly she feels like their entire relationship has changed. It's as if Peyton's confession has put up some unbreakable wall between Brooke and Lucas, and Brooke can't figure out how to get rid of it. She can still feel his words from their earlier fight ringing in her ears, and she can still taste the champagne on his lips from the kiss they shared during their dance. And she doesn't understand how he can be so close, and yet so far away.

"Well, goodnight." He bends over, and leans in to kiss her. She turns her head, just barely, so that he catches the edge of her lips, and most of her cheek. And though the twist of her head is barely noticeable or significant, it kills her to see the look in his eyes as he pulls away.

;;;

Please review!


	2. Thin Layer

**Hide and Seek**

**A/N: **I'm just become in general a slow updater. See, I've actually started working in school, so studying for finals has gotten ridic. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter :) And I thank everyone for your lovely reviews! xoxo

**Chapter 2: **_Thin Layer _

_There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness._

- Friedrich Nietzsche

When she wakes up, she already feel as though yesterday morning was a year ago. It all feels so distant – the fight with Peyton, the wedding, the fight with Lucas, the kiss, the accident, the talk with Haley. It's Sunday morning and it isn't until Brooke opens her eyes that she remembers where she had fallen asleep last night. She sits up quickly, yawns, and throws the quilt off of herself.

"Morning, pretty girl."

She jumps slightly, not noticing his presence in the living room armchair until now.

"Jesus, Lucas! Don't scare me like that so early in the morning." She places her hands over her eyes and groans.

Lucas chuckles slightly, continuing to type on his laptop that's propped up on his lap. He's writing. _He's always writing. _These days she practically has to straddle him and take off her shirt before he'll notice her enough to shut the lid of the computer.

She hasn't nagged him to share with her what he's been writing, because Brooke knows he'll show her when he's ready. And it _scares _her, in a way. To delve so deeply into the suddenly exposed thoughts of her teenage boyfriend.

She assumes he's written for awhile now. But she's just started to notice it lately – now that they've been having problems. Not like their trivial fights about what movie to see or what kind-of ice cream to buy, but the fights that leave this irreplaceable and uncomfortable silence in the air when one of them asks a question that the other just can't answer.

Brooke hates to admit it, but he's usually the one asking. _"Are you doing better in calculus?" "Have you been getting along better with your parents lately?" "Do you ever worry about what's going to happen next year?" _The last one froze her the most.

"How long have you been up for?" she asks softly, after a minute of silence.

Brooke looks surprised when he closes his laptop and places it on the table. "A few hours. Do you want some coffee?"

She nods and they stand. In this moment, he wants to tell her how incredibly sexy she looks, just woken up, in only shorts and a sweater, with her hair pulled back into a bun. However, with events of yesterday, he's almost afraid to speak to her, let along compliment her or even touch her.

The kitchen is warm, and Brooke can faintly hear the washing machine running in the laundry room. The Sunday morning sun spills across the kitchen, and as she takes a seat at the table, she notices a note from Karen saying she opened the café early today. Lucas prepares the coffee – just a drop of milk, a dash of sugar. Brooke smiles in spite of the fact that he doesn't even need to ask her how she drinks her coffee – he already knows. It's comforting.

Lucas comes up behind her, placing the steaming mug on the table, and his hand on her shoulder. Instead of tensing up, she relaxes under his touch, and when she turns her head, she's met by his lips on hers.

It's soft, smooth, wet. _So _unlike yesterday when she had tried to channel her anger and frustration and sadness from her lips to his. It lasts 5 seconds – maybe even 10 or fifteen, before she finally pulls away.

She remembers why she loves him now. Because his lips, his tongue, they make her forget. The fact that he remembers they way she likes her coffee and that he doesn't push her to hard to get her to talk.

"How'd you sleep?" he asks softly, sitting down on the adjacent side of the table and taking her hand in his.

"Decently." She smiles and blushes at the way he intensely stares at her. "Considering how hectic yesterday was."

"Yeah…listen. I wanted to talk to you. Look," he pauses and sighs. "I know that you're still upset with me over…well, you know." He trails off, and she's suddenly annoyed that he can't finish the sentence. "So if you need time, that's fine. Just know that I'm always here."

"What? You want to take a break?" she asks defensively, pulling her hand away.

He looks bewildered and just shakes his head. "N-no, it just seems like you're angry with me."

"That doesn't mean I want to break up," she says moodily, staring in to her coffee cup.

Lucas sighs and stands. "Maybe you should learn to listen to what I say, Brooke, before completely biting my head off."

She ignores him this time, brushing a lock of hair out of her face and fidgeting with the material of her sweatshirt. There's a long silence, and then he speaks.

"Fine. Whatever. You can just bitch to yourself – I'm going for a run."

;;;

Lucas has memorized the route to Nathan and Haley's apartment. He used to run here all the time back when his girlfriend was living with his best friend. But he's never run this fast, or this hard before. His feet hit the pavement with a satisfying smack – all his anger and frustration he releases in a 4 mile sprint.

Haley is sitting somewhat awkwardly on the steps leading up to the apartment complex when he arrives in the driveway. She seems calm, dressed in jeans and a sweater, with her chin rested in her hands. Her dirty blonde hair hangs down past her waist. When she sees Lucas, she smiles faintly, and sits up straighter as he collapses next to her.

Neither of them speak for a minute or two, and the quiet morning is filled solely with his heavy breathing.

"So I take it you've heard," she says, finally breaking the silence.

He turns to her. Haley. They've been best friends for over a decade, and sometimes in these moments, he wonders what would have happened if they'd stayed in their world. If he'd never left the Rivercourt. She would have never met Nathan…he would have never met Peyton…or Brooke. They would be living out relatively uncomplicated teenage lives – as uncomplicated as they could be. He wouldn't be attempting to save a girl whom he had fallen head over heels for – she wouldn't be pregnant at 17.

Sometimes he wonders what would have happened if he'd never left the Rivercourt. But then he thinks of Nathan, Peyton, _Brooke._ And that wonder ceases to exist.

"I'm so happy for you," he breathes out, sincerely. "I really am."

Haley smiles, and warmly accepts his hug, despite the sweat that clings to his torso and shirt. She wraps her arms around his back and whispers the only words she knows to say: "I'm _scared, _Luke."

They part, and he squints at her, sighing out and placing a hand on her thigh.

"Don't be scared, Hales. If I learned one thing about my brother in the past two years it's that he loves you insanely. And you love him. This is going to be hard – yes. But I have no doubt that you can handle it."

She grins a little. "Thank you. But, you know, that's not all I'm scared about. I've suspected this for awhile – just tried to put off taking a test to make it all the more real. And I've adjusted. I think I'm ready." She smiles warmly. "But…I'm worried about Brooke…and you."

It used to be different. Lucas and Brooke were the fluffy couple that their friends would walk in on while they were having sex. They were the couple whose fights were always over the most inconsequential things. They were the couple that teamed up to try and fix Nathan and Haley's marriage.

Things started to change. Haley suspects it was around the time immediately following the shooting. There was the time that Brooke and Lucas got into a screaming match in the middle of the hallway between 2nd and 3rd period, which ended with her slapping him, slamming him into a locker, and stalking off in a huff down the hallway. Or the time that he freaked out on her, for seemingly no reason, when she attempted to engage in a bit of PDA on the lawn in front of school.

"I don't know Hales – it just seems like we're moving in two completely opposite directions. All she does anymore is study – which, is great, but so unlike her. She never wants to go to parties anymore, and doesn't pick up her phone when she's studying. And then she blames _me _when I try to get some writing done."

Haley nods. She understands the trouble with trying to blend a relationship with one's own personal goals. And as much as she hates to admit it, she wonders whether staying together is really Brooke and Lucas' best decision.

"Have you considered taking a break?"

A look of intense pain enters Lucas' eyes and he nods curtly. "Sometimes. But then, I remember the way we are when we're happy. And I remember how much I love to see her smile, and how much I love to kiss her and hold her. I remember why I spent the entire latter half of junior year and the whole summer completely obsessed with her. I just don't know how to live without her. I can't."

;;;

Somewhere along the line, she memorized her parents phone number in LA. It's odd to her, really, considering she's spoken to them maybe three times since the year began. They didn't even call her on Christmas – she had to track them down on their cell phones, and even then, leave a message.

Lucas had found her that night, lying in bed at the apartment, sobbing into her pillow like a little girl. This was about two weeks before the shooting, and they were still in the early stages of their relationship – when the problems were kept to a minimum. She had let him hold her and calm her down, and always remembers this as the first time she let him see how vulnerable she is in regards to her parents.

She's still sitting at table in Lucas' kitchen when she finally musters up the courage to pick up the phone and dial. It rings nearly four times before a familiar, stiff, voice answers.

"Davis residence."

"Dad?"

;;;

It's around 11 in the morning, and Peyton has barely been up five minutes when she hears a key in the front door, and the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs. When Brooke enters, the blonde is still in bed, but has dragged out her sketch pad and pencils, and is so engrossed in her work that she barely notices her former best friend enter.

Brooke moves straight for the closet, and Peyton sits up straighter in bed. "Brooke?"

"Sorry, I just came by to get some clothes."

Peyton scrambles out of the linens and moves to the closet door. "Brooke – I don't want you to leave."

The brunette sighs, pulling jeans and scarves and shoes and tops from their places in the closet. "I can't do this right now, Peyton."

"Well, where are you going to stay?" Peyton asks, furiously blinking back tears as Brooke shoves clothing into a duffle bag.

"I've made arrangements," is all she says, stealing a glance back at Peyton. When she stands, and tries to brush past the blonde, Peyton follows her and grabs her wrist.

"Come on, Brooke! We've been through so much together. Just talk to me! Yell at me, for all I care. I just don't want you to hate me."

Brooke turns away, brushing the hair out of her face. "I don't hate you, Peyton," she murmurs softly. "But I can't look at you right now."

As Brooke leaves, and Peyton returns halfheartedly to the sketch of a crying brunette in a red dress, she wonders how much of their friendship she had gambled away, and whether it was all worth it or not.

;;;

"My parents are moving back to Tree Hill."

Two forks clatter against plates as both Karen and Lucas look up in surprise. It's the first thing substantial that anyone has said at dinner, and while it breaks the awkward silence, it's a revelation that neither mother nor son expected.

"Yeah…um, I talked to my dad on the phone today and apparently he bought out his old company. They're moving back next week…"

"Wow, Brooke that's…" Lucas attempts to find words that will accurately describe the return of her parents, but is at a loss.

"…That's great," Karen finishes, placing her hand over Brooke's. "it will be nice to have them back, right?"

Brooke shrugs, not showing much emotion over the present situation. "Yeah I guess. I mean, it's good timing, now that I'm not living with Peyton – I can just move back in with them."

The fact that the main positive thing about this situation is that Brooke won't be homeless anymore, worries Lucas. Maybe if it were October, or November she would be more apt to her parents returning. But with each passing week that they didn't call, he could feel her detaching more and more from them, attempting to mend the wound of a child not loved enough.

Karen smiles warmly. "Well our house is perfectly welcome to you for the next two weeks."

Lucas watches the look of understanding pass between his mother and his girlfriend. In a quiet and grateful voice, Brooke thanks Karen, and then stands to clear the table.

"Don't worry about that, sweetie. You've done enough for me today. Why don't the two of you go spend some time together? I'll do the dishes."

It's not exactly subtle, what Karen's doing. Lucas knows that she's recognized the slow deterioration of their relationship, and knows that she'll do anything to try and salvage it. She's been one of few who has stood up for what the two teenagers shared – when many others didn't understand.

10 minutes later they're in his room. Lucas is on his laptop, and has propped himself up against his headboard. Brooke's feet are at the pillow and she's sprawled on her stomach across the bed, reading from her AP Calculus book. He runs a hand across her lower back, somewhat subconsciously, and for once, the silence that fills the room is comforting, rather than awkward.

He can see the edge of her face from his position on the bed, and the look of intense concentration she has as she reads about derivatives. He's proud of her, really, for working so hard in school lately. And she just looks so adorable, knees bent and feet up in the air, her long brown locks sprawled across the camisole she's thrown on, the answer key to one of her practice tests sneaking out of the back pocket of her True Religion jeans.

Brooke clearly notices him staring at her, cause her dimples emerge and she looks over her shoulder to stare back. With a smile he hasn't seen in days, she flips over on to her back and props herself up on her elbows.

"Read to me, Lucas." Those words are her disregarding their fight earlier, and completely opening herself up to his own words…his own thoughts. He's never read anything to her that he's written before, but somehow the last paragraph he'd been working on just stands out to him as something she _needs _to hear.

He takes a deep breath, and begins to read.

"The boy saw the comet and he felt as though his life had meaning. And when it went away, he waited his entire life for it to come back to him.

"It was more than just a comet because of what it brought to his life: direction, beauty, meaning. There are many who couldn't understand, and sometimes he walked among them. But even in his darkest hours, he knew in his heart that someday it would return to him, and his world would be whole again... And his belief in God, and love, and art would be _re-awakened_ in his heart."

When he stops reading, she doesn't say anything. He closes his laptop, places it on the bedside table, and wills himself to look at her. There is an indecipherable expression on her face.

"It's just about a comet…" he trails off.

Brooke sits up. The calculus book lays long forgotten at the foot of the bed. In an instant, she has crawled up to him and straddled his lap. Their lips meet in a moment of forgiveness, and her hands wander up his shirt to caress his warm skin. He finds solace in her tongue, in the deep crevices of her mouth, in the feeling of her chocolate brown locks against his fingertips.

"It's just about a comet," he mumbles again between kisses.

She remembers why she loves him now.

* * *

please review!


	3. Breathe Me

**Hide and Seek**

**Chapter 3: **_Breathe Me_

_To love and and be loved is to feel the sun on both sides_

_- _Davis Viscott

"_Mom? Dad?" her voice echoes hollowly off of the walls of her empty foyer. She drops her bag onto the wood paneling and cranes her head to look out the window and see Peyton's dad drive slowly off. Dusk has just settled in on this early October evening, and Brooke wishes she could have stayed in Peyton's warm kitchen for longer after dinner, instead of insisting she was driven home so she could see her parent's – just back from their European cruise. _

_Nobody answers the preteens calls, but Brooke advances into the living room and notes a slip of paper sitting on the coffee table. _

Brooke – Went for dinner at the Manson's. We'll be home before midnight. Love, Mom and Dad

_Any other 12 year old would probably be ecstatic to find she was alone in her house, but Brooke was all too used to it. Once she hit the tender old age of 10, her parents said goodbye to nannies and babysitters, and began to leave Brooke alone at night when they went to parties. _

_Needless to say, this type of thing wasn't new to her, but Brooke can't cloud her disappointment in finding out that it will be another few hours until she sees her parents, whom have been gone for 10 days. Trying to look on the bright side of things, she remembers that she could take anything she wanted from the fridge, eat on the couch, and watch any television she wanted. _

_She realizes that she's not in the mood. Instead, she pads upstairs, with a mind to lay down on her bed for awhile, and perhaps paint her nails. However, passing by the 2__nd__ floor landing, she notices that her father's study door is open, allowing her curiosity to get the better of her. Prompted, Brooke slips inside. _

_The office isn't very roomy – but it's big enough to fit Richard's desk, among other things. The window shades are drawn, but his liquor cabinet stands out like a sore thumb against the back wall. _

_She opens the cabinet and pulls out the first bottle she finds. _100 Proof Vodka. _The clear bottle is cool to her touch, and she's strangely invigorated by this liquid she constantly sees in her father's glass at night. Not bothering to go downstairs for a glass, she unscrews the cap, and tips her head back._

_The liquid pours into her mouth, and runs into her stomach, leaving a warm and burning sensation down her throat. Her head clouds, but only for a second, and Brooke smiles. In just a few sips she begins to feel giddy and lightheaded, and all realization that what she's doing is wrong flies out of her mind. In minutes, half the bottle is gone, and all of a sudden, everything goes black. _

"Well…it's not as good as mine."

Brooke looks up from her magazine to see Rachel Gatina standing in the door to her bedroom.

"What isn't?"

"Your house. No wonder those people agreed to sell it back to your parents."

Brooke rolls her eyes and crosses her legs to allow the redhead to sprawl across the foot of her bed. "Nice of you to stop by, Rachel."

"No problem. I actually wanted to see how you were doing in hour 3 of the next four months with your parental unit."

"Well…so far, my mom has thrown a dish at my dad while they were unpacking, they have 'social events' lined up every night for the next 3 weeks…and my father has successfully barricaded himself in his study. So, just like old times."

Rachel laughs. "Why are you even here then? Go over to Lucas'. I'm sure it's much more pleasant in his _humble abode,_" she finishes with an air of distaste.

"Maybe later," Brooke responds with a small smile, returning her eyes to the magazine.

"Maybe it's the crazy fat girl inside of me, but it seems like you and the boy toy aren't spending much time together lately."

"We've just both been really busy."

"So he won't put out, huh?"

"Rachel!"

"What?" Rachel says through a laugh. "Why else would you feel the need to Brooke yourself 24/7?"

"A) It was _one time _and B) trust me, that's not it."

"I know, fatass, I was joking. You and the elder Scott go at it like rabbits. I remember that weekend at my cabin, your screams were loud enough to wake up the entire – "

"OK Rachel! I get it!" Brooke interrupts, her face growing flushed.

"Does he do that thing with his tongue where –"

"RACHEL!"

"Okay, okay!" Rachel holds her hands up and laughs. "I'm sorry. But no really, what's the problem?"

Brooke sighs. "I don't even know. Honestly – I think it's my problem. Ever since the wedding, he's been all careful and quiet around me – like he thinks I'm a porcelain doll that he's going to break. And he keeps wanting to cuddle with me, and spoon, and give me soft kisses, and treat my like a puppy. Like that's great and everything…but it used to make me so much happier than it does now."

"So what…do you think you're getting sick of him?"

The brunette shakes her head dejectedly. "No…because every time I consider ending it with him, my stomach knots up and I start to panic. I can't imagine actually going through with it."

Rachel sighs. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think you guys need to legitimately sit down and talk this through," she says sincerely. "And while I am definitely not the queen of words, I think it's the only way you're going to get to the bottom of this."

"Yeah…" Brooke responds in a pensive tone. A beat, and then voices float up from downstairs. Yelling. Screaming. Cursing.

Talking never seems to get her parents anywhere.

;;;

The first half of the car ride to the party is silent. They've gotten in one of their stupid fights again…this time about which route to take to get to Bevin's house. Brooke suggested the thruway because it took about 10 minutes less than going through Tree Hill, but Lucas claimed that the traffic would be terrible, and since he was the one driving, naturally he won.

It's almost nine o'clock, and Keith's old mustang slides smoothly down the pavement. Lucas fiddles with the dial on the radio, attempting to find a decent station. Brooke stares blankly out the window at the passing trees and houses. They pass Peyton's house at some point, and Brooke is pathetic enough to steal a glance at Lucas to see if he watches the brick colonial building as they go by. He doesn't.

Eventually he settles on a station. Brooke recognizes the song immediately. It's #1 on her Top 25 Most Played playlist on her ipod. She looks over at Lucas to see if he recognizes it too, but he's staring straight out the front windshield. He flips on his right turn signal.

_Help, I have done it again_

_I have been here many times before_

_Hurt myself again today_

_And, the worst part is there's no-one else to blame_

_Be my friend_

_Hold me, wrap me up_

_Unfold me_

_I am small_

_and needy_

_Warm me up_

_And breathe me_

"You know what this song always reminds me of? That night of the blackout."

Brooke smiles over at her boyfriend. So he hadn't forgotten. _Breathe Me _by Sia had been playing while they slept together for the first time after they had gotten back together. She opens her mouth to say something, because it's been a while since they've had a moment like this, but Lucas beats her to it.

"Yeah it was the only song I really knew by Sia, but then Peyton really got me hooked on them."

Moment ruined.

_Ouch I have lost myself again_

_Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,_

_Yeah I think that I might break_

_Lost myself again and I feel unsafe_

_Be my friend_

_Hold me, wrap me up_

_Unfold me_

_I am small_

_and needy_

_Warm me up_

_And breathe me_

Okay, so the party isn't as bad as Brooke had assumed it was going to be. Most of their friends are there – even Peyton has made a rare appearance, though so far she's been skulking in a corner attempting to have a conversation with a _very _wasted Mouth.

They're sitting on stools at the kitchen counter, playing a relatively dumb version of I Never. Dumb because between Brooke, Lucas, Nathan, Narryan, Haley, Rachel, and Skillz, they've played enough games of I Never to basically know every remotely dirty thing everyone has done. So by now they've resorted to stupid things like _"I never ate an entire pint of ice cream by myself." _Plus, Haley's drinking water, and that basically ruins the entire game anyway.

Peyton sidles over at some point. "Hey guys, can I play?"

Brooke's already had her fair share of beer, and despite the fact that she's been attempting to take the high road these past few days by simply ignoring the blonde, instead of seeking her out just to be nasty, the alcohol is clearly impairing her judgment.

"Depends. Is your statement _"I never tried to steal my best friends boyfriend," _cause that would be a lie."

"Brooke," Lucas says in a strained voice.

"Lucas," she shoots back.

"I'll just go…" says Peyton, sounding tired.

Brooke stands up. "It's fine. Have fun. I'm going to head home." She turns to Lucas. "You can stay. I'll get a ride from someone else."

"No, it's totally fine," Lucas says hurriedly. "I'll drive you home. But are you sure you don't want to stay?"

Brooke sighs. "I'm sure."

"Okay, let me just get my coat. I'll meet you at the car."

Brooke pushes her way through the crowds of people until she reaches the door. Pulling it open, she steps into the crisp night air and walks across the lawn until she reaches the Mustang. For some reason, she feels tired, on the edge of tears, but she blinks them back, feeling her face grow flushed and warm.

Lucas jogs across the lawn and to the other side of the car. Brooke ducks into the passenger seat and he backs out onto the street. Once they're driving along smoothly, Lucas clears his throat.

"I didn't really want to stay either – at the party, that is," he finishes, clarifying.

Brooke smiles, mainly because he's trying to be nice, and she appreciates that he treats her so well. "I figured. Parties aren't exactly your favorite thing."

"Hey…I know how to get my groove on."

"Oh my god." Brooke slaps a hand over her face. "You are like 50 years old," she says through a laugh.

They pull up to Brooke's house, and she can see that only the living room light is still on. "Well…back to hell," she says through a fake laugh.

"Is it really that bad?"

"Is Hell really that hot?"

"Then come stay with me…just for tonight," Lucas pleads. "I don't want you to have to deal with your parents.

"Lucas, please. I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't!"

There's a silence, and then Lucas sighs – defeated. "Well, call me in the morning then."

"I will." She glances down at her hand. "Fuck."

"What's wrong?"

"My ring – I can't find it."

Lucas looks worried. "The one I gave you for your birthday?"

"That would be the one. It might have slipped off on the way to the party. Let me check the backseat really quickly."

"I'll help."

Minutes pass, as the two of them rummage around in the backseat, Lucas cursing at the numerous times he bangs his head on the roof of the car.

"Maybe it'll be easier to find when it's light out," he suggests after a while.

"Yeah," Brooke responds in a shaky voice.

"Hey," he says, taking her chin in his hand. Her mascara is smudged only slightly – her curls from the evening have fallen out and her skirt is slightly rumpled. Still, he thinks she looks beautiful. "Don't worry about it. We'll find it."

She smiles, genuinely for once, and leans in to kiss him. It's meant to be short, sweet, a goodnight kiss, but her lips linger on his longer than she had intended.

Before either of them realizes it, his tongue has slipped into her mouth, and his hand has tangled itself in her curls. They lean back so she's settles across the closed door of the backseat. Their mouths mold together in a mess of opened mouth kisses, and her tongue dances across his own.

It's been a while since they've kissed like this, and for the life of her, Brooke can't remember why. Everything feels warmer, sharper, brighter. He brings a hand up to rest on her lower back, and she feels that familiar ache between her thighs that she's missed so much.

She reaches down to the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head. He feels underneath her top to palm her breast with one of his hands. Brooke throws her head back to let out a sigh, and Lucas' lips move from her mouth to her neck. He kisses behind her earlobe – the place he knows drives her insane, and she squirms underneath him.

His fingers dance all up and down her smooth and toned legs, and her hands are already working at his belt. Before she can pull off his jeans, however, his right hand has seared a path up her thigh, pushed her thong to the side and…

"Oh god…" Brooke moans out as his index and middle finger begin to rub her slippery wet folds.

He puts his head to her ear and breathes in the scent of her green apple shampoo. "Pretty girl, you're so wet…you're so fucking wet…"

Everything about this situation has him turned on. The windows have fogged up, and all she's doing is kissing him, but the way her center feels against his fingertips, and her hot breath on his face, is enough to make him dizzy with want.

"Lucas…" she moans as he slips one finger deep inside of her.

"What baby? Tell me what you want?"

He's holding her. He's holding on to her tight, to make up for the last few weeks of her trying to push him away. And now, it's as if all her worry and stress is gone, because all either of them can focus on is each other, and the sounds she's making from deep in her throat, the whines and sighs, makes him go completely hard.

"I want…you." He slips his finger out, eager to meet her request, because he's about ready to explode with her writing beneath him. She sits up, just enough to unzip his jeans and kick them off. He pulls off her top, and yanks off her skirt hard enough to rip it on the seam, but neither of them cares. He's over her again, kissing her everywhere, delving into the inner crevices of her mouth.

Brooke arches her back, letting her mound rub across his boxer-clad region. Lucas lets out a low animal-like moan, and fumbles around her back until he manages to unclasp her bra. She immediately wraps her arm around his neck, and moves her hips back and forth, up and down. The friction is enough to drive him insane, and with rushed and hurried movements, he kicks off his boxers and pushes down her thong.

He lies over her, their warm and sweaty skin mingling, as their bodies lay flush against one another. She's still breathing heavily, panting more like it, and her gorgeous chocolate locks hang down over her shoulders. She's lying down across the backseat completely now, and he feels protective hovered over her.

Their eyes meet – then their lips, and without much warning Lucas plunges himself into her. Her breath catches in her throat and his tongue thrusts into her mouth with a similar force.

The feeling of him, and only him, makes Brooke unbelievably happy that she stayed on the pill. He slides halfway out of her, and she softly moans.

He slams himself back in – harder this time. "Fuck, Brooke," he mutters, into her lips. She shoves her hips up to meet him with every thrust. Everything feels flawless – the way their bodies slide together, the way he fits inside of her so perfectly. He wonders whether two peoples bodies can be just made for each other – cause it sure feels like it right now.

It doesn't matter that it's 12:30 at night, or that they're in the backseat of his car, parked outside her house. It doesn't matter that right now, both of them are scared shitless to think of the future of the their relationship. All that matters is this moment – right now – the two of them.

"Faster…harder…oh god…" she's yelling and moaning at the same time, and just the sound of her voice, so full of ecstasy and pleasure, makes the pressure build up in Lucas as he continues to slide in and out of her.

"Luke…Luke! I'm…I'm about to…"

"Me too pretty girl…wait for me…"

She does. They come together, tumbling over the edge in a mixture of moans and screams. Their gazes never leave one another.

;;;

She slips into her house, and she already knows he's drunk.

Richard Davis is stumbling out of the living room, into the foyer, and Brooke doesn't bother to fix her make-up or her hair, or hide the rip in her skirt, cause what does it really matter? She knows what he's about to say anyway.

"Out again late…are we?" His words are slurred, slow.

"Dad, I don't need this right now." She pushes past him, wondering how she could go from feeling so happy, warm, loved, needed, to feeling so empty and lonely.

He grabs onto her arm. "Listen here, missy. I don't need a little _slut _for…for a daughter, to mess up this family's…_reputation._"

"Don't call me that!" Tears of frustration well in her eyes, and she wishes in this moment that she had taken Lucas up on his offer for her to stay with him.

"I've known you…you were trouble since the day, since the day we found you passed out in front of my liquor cabinet when you were _12…_"

"You're an asshole," she whispers, her hazel eyes boring him down.

With the hand that used to balance her as she sat atop his shoulders, he reaches across and slaps her clear across her face.

There's a silence – repressed memories come flooding back to the shocked brunette, and she tears her eyes away from her father.

"Sober up, dad."

With that, she ascends the stairs.


	4. Power of Two

**Hide and Seek**

**A/N: **I literally just sat on the couch for 3 hours while watching MSNBC, and wrote this chapter. I'm actually really happy about it, and I hope you guys like it. Please review!

**Chapter 4: **_Power of Two _

_There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered._

- Nelson Mandela

On game nights, everything changes. It's not just a night for basketball and cheerleading – but more like a night for everyone to remember that they're only in high school. Sometimes they forget that their only 15 and 16 and 17 and 18, and that most of them haven't even applied to college. When the game starts, and when the gym is filled with two teams, yelling cheerleaders, and screaming fans, for the night – they're merely teenagers.

Brooke has forgotten what it feels like to be on top. It's strange, because the events of the past few months have really prevented her from socializing much, or focusing on her given status of Queen Bee at school. Today, however, things feel oddly like they used to, back in junior year, and even the beginning of this year.

It's not all the same, though. She waves to her fellow cheerleaders in the hallway, but doesn't stop to talk them. Somehow, she doesn't really care anymore about who had an abortion or who had a sex tape come out this week. In Calculus, she has the perfect opportunity to spew a witty remark, but instead keeps her mouth shut. Even during Study Hall, when some of the girls are ranking the bodies of the guys on the soccer team, she simply looks on.

She satisfies her appetite at lunch with a bottle of water and an apple. At first, she sits alone on the east side of the quad, reading Luca's copy of The Glass Castle. It's nice and quiet – silence is something she has grown to appreciate more lately. She's absorbed enough in her book that she doesn't notice at first when someone in a matching cheerleading outfit sits down on the opposite side of the table.

"That's a good book."

Brooke looks up and smiles slightly. "Hey Hales."

"Why are you sitting all alone?"

She shrugs. "I just thought I would get some reading done."

Something in Haley's eyes tells Brooke that she doesn't believe her, but Haley clearly chooses to let it pass. "I think Lucas is looking for you," she says after a minute.

"Oh." Brooke looks down to the table. "I'll catch up with him soon."

Haley sighs. "Brooke, did something happen between you two? I'm worried – I haven't seen you together all day."

The brunette looks up again. She feels awful, really, because Haley looks so concerned. "Hales, you have so much on your plate right now. You shouldn't have to deal with my relationship too."

"Brooke." Haley reaches across the table and grabs her hand. "You and Lucas are my _best friends. _I'm not just going to sit back and watch a relationship fall apart for no legitimate reason."

"And it's not falling apart – I promise," Brooke protests. "Honestly, after last night, I should be telling you that things are getting a lot better."

"But it looked like something was wrong. You guys left the party really early. Which just proves my point that going to parties on Sunday nights is a terrible idea," responds Haley through a laugh.

Brooke smiles a little. "You're probably right. And yeah, when we left the party I was kind-of pissed off."

"Why?"

"I don't even know!" She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, clearly frustrated. "It's just, every time Peyton is in the same room as me, I turn into this huge bitch, and I don't even mean to be."

"Well, you deserve to be a little mad at her," says Haley, clearly trying to stay neutral between her two friends.

"I know…but if I'm not ready to be friends with her – does that mean that I get to tell Lucas he _can't _be friends with her? No, that's selfish and wrong, but that's what I'm doing. And I have no idea why."

Haley sighs. "I think you're just confused. It's been a hard couple of months, and you have every right to be a little anxious about your relationship. Look, your parents just moved home, and it's no secret that relations between you and them aren't good. You're angry with Peyton, and fighting with Lucas a lot more. Brooke…there isn't anything wrong with you. It's just a lot to handle right now."

Brooke nods, swallows, and looks down into her lap. "Yeah…I know."

"Now that we've covered that, why don't we talk about what happened last night."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, like I said, you guys left really early. And you just said that after last night, you should be telling me that things are getting better. So what happened, and why _aren't _you telling me that things are getting better."

The brunette smiles. Haley has always been extremely articulate and concise. It makes being her friend very rewarding, but it forces Brooke to be more vulnerable and brutally honest. Being around Haley often reminds Brooke of being around Lucas, because, as best friends, they truly are very similar in that sense.

"Well…he drove me home. But, before I went inside…we kind-of had sex in the backseat." Brooke is blushing, which is strange, considering the fact that she's never really been very closeted about her sex life.

Haley smiles, and then laughs, and shakes her head. "You would. Brooke…" she looks up. "That's foul."

"That's not the point!" Brooke says through a laugh, and slaps Haley lightly on the shoulder. "Stop laughing!"

"Okay…okay." Haley calms down. "So I'm still not seeing the problem."

Brooke's smile fades. "It's just...it's the first time that we've slept together since that weekend at Rachel's."

"Was it not…you know, good?"

"It was amazing...but not in the way that it normally is. It was just like, really _intense. _He kept looking at me like he was afraid I was going to run away…and holding on to me like it was the last time he would ever get to touch me."

"Brooke…" Haley lowers her voice. "I think you're just scared. You guys have been through so much together, and you've _still _held on. Most people would have given up already."

"So you think we're dumb for holding on?"

Haley shakes her head. "I'm thinking the opposite." She pauses for a second, seemingly searching for words. "You guys have this really pure, untainted love, that I've never really seen before. And up until now, you haven't let outside issues really penetrate that love. But what's going on in your lives right now is starting to impend on your relationship, and I think that's scaring both of you."

Brooke is starting to blink back tears. Haley stands up and moves around the table to sit next to her friend, and put an arm around her shoulder.

"Then what do I do, Haley?" she whispers. "I honestly don't know how I would make it through the day without him."

"Maybe you should tell him that."

--

The first time Peyton sees either Brooke or Lucas on Monday morning, they're together. She's standing at her locker, trying to find her History homework, when Lucas approaches Brooke at _her _locker, on the other side of the hallway.

"Hey pretty girl," he says in a low voice, wrapping his arms around her from behind, and pressing a kiss onto her ear.

"Hey." She turns around in his arms and leans up against her locker.

"I haven't seen you all day," he continues quietly, playing with the hem on the bottom of her cheerleading skirt.

"I know," Brooke responds, focusing her attention on his collared shirt. "I've been cramming for my Gov test." She reaches up to his tie and starts to fix it.

"I missed you last night." He reaches up and places a hand on her cheek. Brooke meets his eyes, and smiles. Genuinely, Peyton knows, because her dimples appear.

Brooke finishes with his tie. "I missed you too." She pauses. "You smell like chicken."

Lucas laughs, and places a hand on the locker next to hers. "Probably because I had chicken for lunch."

"Probably." She laughs.

"What did you eat?"

Brooke shrugs. "I had an apple. I wasn't that hungry."

"Brooke." His voice is suddenly strained.

"What?" Now she sounds annoyed too, as if this is an argument they've had before.

"You know _what. _You need to be eating."

"I _am _eating, Lucas. I just wasn't that hungry."

"Bullshit."

She places a hand on his chest. "Can we not do this here?" she murmurs. Her eyes are pleading, and he sighs and drops his head.

"Fine."

Brooke breathes out. "Thank you." She checks her watch. "I have to get to class."

"Let me walk you?"

She seems to hesitate – and then looks over his shoulder. Her eyes meet Peyton's, and she looks startled, only now noticing her former best friend. Immediately, her expression turns to one of vulnerability, and she tears her eyes away from the blonde to look back at Lucas.

"Yeah, okay."

They turn down the hallway, and Lucas knots his fingers through hers, and then kisses them. He hasn't noticed Peyton, something she is eternally grateful for. And as they begin to walk away, Peyton starts to feel something that even she is surprised by. She starts to feel comforted.

It's very strange, because she shouldn't be okay with seeing them together – judging by the reason she gambled away her friendship with the brunette. But despite the fact that all of their lives have been extremely topsy-turvy lately, it's kind-of reassuring to see them together. They aren't really consciously aware of it, but the two of them own the school. Brooke used to be extremely attentive to the fact that she was on top of the world when it came to high school life. But Peyton can tell that doesn't really interest her as much lately.

That's what makes the relationship between the cheery brunette and the broody blonde so interesting. They are only minutely aware that everyone in school is looking to them. They are the picture of the ideal couple – the captains of the basketball and cheerleading teams. Both beautiful, both caring, both in love. Even now, as they walk down the hallway, plenty of sets of eyes follow them, as people watch them pass. Some are jealous, some pretend to hate them. Most, like Peyton, see Brooke and Lucas as a constant. Steady, unchanging, reassuring.

Peyton is starting to wonder something. Maybe, she isn't so much in love with Lucas, as she is in love with what they used to be, with what they once had the _potential _to be, with what Brooke and Lucas are.

She fumbles when placing her History textbook in her bag, and 2 pieces of a torn photo fall out. She bends down to the floor. It's the picture of Brooke, Lucas, and Peyton, from last year, standing together, leaning up against the door of Peyton's comet. She sighs, collecting the ripped pieces in her hands.

Maybe she made a big mistake.

--

It's Monday night, and the week has barely started, but Lucas is already exhausted. In the locker room, a few minutes before the game begins, he realizes that while he's excited to play, and is excited to get his heart pumping, part of him just wants to grab Brooke, go home, and curl up to watch a movie together.

"Luke." Lucas turns around. Nathan nods to his brother's right shoulder. "Your tattoo."

He looks down. "Right." He's forgotten to cover it up, and he reaches into his locker to grab the tape he keeps there.

"I still think it's hilarious that you got that thing," says Nathan through a laugh.

"Hey," responds Lucas, defensively. "I was drunk. And with _Brooke. _Can you really blame me?"

"Good point." Nathan finishes with wrapping up his knee. "When your kids ask, you can just blame it on mommy."

"Don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself?"

"What do you mean?"

"Since when do we have kids?"

Nathan laughs and closes his locker. "Come on, dude. It's you and Brooke we're talking about. Everyone knows you guys are going to be together forever."

Lucas sighs. "Yeah, well with the way things have been going lately, I wouldn't be surprised if she dumps my sorry ass tomorrow."

"How so?"

"She's just been really moody," he says through a shrug. "But I mean, she's been going through a lot, what with not talking to Peyton, and I think she's just been feeling insecure. Hopefully it'll blow over."

"I totally know what you mean. Haley's reaching the moody stage of the pregnancy. I swear, every time I come even remotely close to teasing her about _anything, _she completely flies off the handle. She's going crazy."

"It's your fault that you buy defective protection."

"Nice," mutters Nathan rolling his eyes.

Lucas laughs and claps his brother on the shoulder. "Let's go. We have an undefeated season to defend."

They exit the locker room into the crowded gym. Instinctively, he scans the sidelines for his girlfriend. His eyes find her – she's talking to Haley. The special Raven's "R" has already been painted on her cheek, and her hair has been blow-dried straight, hanging down to the bottom of her ribcage.

She laughs about something, her dimples appearing in full force, something that makes _him_ smile. Before heading over to Whitey to hear his pep talk, Lucas jogs over to Brooke.

"Meet you after the game?"

The brunette just nods and smiles slightly. "Good Luck."

He steps closer to her. "Want to hear a secret?" He leans in and places his lips near her ear. "I _always _play better with you on the sidelines."

She giggles a little bit, and her eyes light up like a little girls's. Haley just laughs and rolls her eyes as Lucas plants a quick kiss on Brooke's lips before running off. He looks back over his shoulder, and Brooke gives him a wink.

He's starting to feel like everything's going to be okay.

--

They won, of course. The game was against Bear Creek, not exactly a difficult team to beat, but it was still fun nonetheless. Brooke stands at the entrance to the boy's locker room, playing with a strand of hair and waiting for Lucas. Her voice is hoarse from screaming all night long, and she makes a mental note to make some tea when she gets home.

She hears footsteps and looks up, expecting Lucas. Then she sighs.

"Hey Peyton."

The words come out defeated, because she really isn't angry lately, simply tired of having to deal with the blonde.

"Hey." Peyton fidgets nervously with her bag. "Great game, huh?"

"Mhmm."

"Brooke, are we ever going to talk again?"

"We're talking right now."

"You know what I mean."

Brooke looks past Peyton and exhales. "What do you want Peyton?"

"I uh…I actually wanted to see how you and Lucas are doing…"

Brooke laughs. She realizes it sounds bitchy, but she's actually kind-of astounded that Peyton has enough guts to even mention _Lucas, _let alone their relationship. "That really isn't any of your business."

"It actually kind-of is." Brooke looks at her like she's insane, but Peyton presses on. "I would hate myself if I were to be the reason that you two ever, god forbid, break up."

"First of all," says Brooke, holding up a finger. "Don't flatter yourself. And second of all, since when are you so worried about Lucas and my relationship?"

Peyton looks down at her feet. "You were right. I shouldn't have ever said anything about my feelings. I should have buried them. And I shouldn't have kissed Lucas in the library."

"It's a little late for that, _Goldilocks_," she says in a cutting tone. "Now if you don't mind…"

Brooke doesn't even finish her sentence, but Peyton knows that it's her cue to leave. Defeated, she does.

Brooke watches her walk away, until the crowd of people milling around the campus swallows her up. She shifts from where she is leaning against the wall, and checks her phone. It's 8:27.

"Hey pretty girl."

Suddenly he's beside her, showered and back in the collared shirt and undone tie that he had worn to school, placing a hand on the small of her back and leaning in.

The anticipation of seeing him after the game has vanished, and as he places his lips on hers, Brooke just tenses up. He can tell, she knows, because he pulls away after a second, and lays a hand on her cheek.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." She smiles, but just barely. "I'm just tired."

He readjusts his bag on his shoulder. "I was thinking you could come over for dinner. My mom's making lasagna."

Brooke looks past him, as if searching for someone in the crowd. "Um, I think I'm just going to go home. I have a big Gov test tomorrow."

Lucas looks confused. "Wasn't that today?"

"Oh, right," she says through a nervous laugh. "I mean Spanish."

Lucas sighs. "Brooke, what's going on?"

"Nothing!" she responds, raising her voice defensively. "I told you – I'm just tired."

"You've been tired for weeks, or so you say. Tell me what's wrong!"

He's getting louder, which is unusual. Usually Lucas is one for silent anger, but now he's starting to look excessively irritated. He steps back and bores into her eyes with his own, expectantly.

"Nothing is wrong, Lucas. And are you actually blaming these last few weeks on just _me?"_

"I haven't been the one ignoring your phone calls, and refusing to come over to dinner, and making up tests so I don't have to spend time with you."

"No, your right." She folds her arms. "_You're _the one who kisses my best friend, and then acts like everything is okay. Everything is _not _okay!"

She's starting to cry, which surprises him, because Brooke has been unusually void of much emotion lately. And all of a sudden, he's taken back to the anteroom at Nathan and Haley's wedding, which just makes his heart hurt even more.

_"I need you to need me back!"_

People are starting to stare. It's unusual to see Brooke and Lucas get in a public screaming match, but here they are, yelling at each other in front of the boy's locker room. Nathan and Haley are about 10 yards away, and watch their friends with worried expressions. Even Rachel, who had previously been talking to Theresa, looks slightly uncomfortable.

"How do you expect me to fight for you, and to work on this relationship, when you aren't willing to put in _any _effort?"

"Are you KIDDING me, Lucas?" she screams. "You STILL don't get it. You don't _know _me. You think that you do, and you take the fact that I'm always here for granted. But I said it once, and I'll say it again. Everything is _NOT _okay!"

She doesn't even give him time to respond, just turns on her heel and begins to walk off.

"Brooke!"

"WHAT?" She yells, starting to turn around.

"Don't walk away from me," he pleads.

She laughs bitterly. "You want to know the reason I always walk away, Lucas?" She pauses before turning back around and disappearing in the crowd. "Because you never follow me."

And he doesn't.


	5. Band Aid Covers the Bullet Hole

**Hide and Seek**

**A/N: **Hola! It's the end of a long week, but an amazingly satisfying one, nonetheless. If I rambled on and raved about Obama until I got bored, this chapter would be a good 7 pages longer. But I'll bite my tongue, and simply say that my faith has finally been restored in this country. Oh, and there's another author's note at the end of this chapter. I have something to say, but I can't say it now cause it'll spoil the chapter. So…enjoy for now!

**Chapter 5: **_Band Aid Covers the Bullet Hole _

_We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person._

- William Somerset Maugham

If someone had told Lucas Scott when he was young, that there would be a specific moment, a specific instance, in his young adult life, where everything changed, where _he_ changed, he would never imagine it to be _this _instant. Standing on his high school quad, on a seemingly normal game night, after a seemingly normal, if not slightly full of more fervor, fight with his girlfriend. He would never have imagined that everything would suddenly settle – all the dust, and all the confusion. He would never have imagined that suddenly, in this instant, all confliction would be gone. He knows what he wants He knows what he has to do.

It's as if he all of a sudden snaps out of a reverie, after minutes of standing there in silence, while his peers look on as if the apocalypse has just occurred. His gym bag abandoned by the door to the locker room, he takes off at a run, pushing through the throngs of people still milling around the building. He scans the horizon with his eyes until he finds what he's looking for – the small lone form, retreating quickly across the empty parking lot.

"Brooke!" Lucas reaches her in a matter of seconds at her car, where she, with fumbling and unsteady hands, is attempting to jam the key into the door lock.

He lays a hand on her shoulder, and she flinches under his touch, but keeps her eyes locked forward – as if the only thing keeping her composure is her un-willingness to look at him.

"I'm sorry," he breathes out, stepping forward so he's closer to her. "For – for everything."

"I can't do this…" when she speaks, it's barely at a whisper, and because she still won't look at him, for a second he thinks she's talking to herself. But she closes her eyes, and he sees a tear slip down her cheek, where it splashes to the pavement that is already soaked from the rain earlier in the day.

"Okay…okay." He's pleading with her now – or reasoning, maybe. He doesn't even know anymore. "I can drive you home…we can work this out later."

"No. No, Lucas," she responds, shrugging away from him. Her voice is firm – cold, and this conversation seems so distant as she stares at the reflection of the two of them in her car window. "I don't think I can do this…_anymore." _

All of a sudden, the world is closing in on him and he feels like he can't breathe. He had never expected that anyone, _anyone, _could make him feel such pain. But she has. She _does. _

"Brooke…" he whispers. "Baby, no…we've been through _so much. _Don't give up now…please, not _now." _

He begins to cry. Hot, wet tears roll down his cheeks, as his vision blurs in front of him. Weeks and months of pent up emotion come flooding out, and his words mesh together and slur until at some point, in the middle of his pleas, he stops talking all together. Now it's just sobs.

Brooke turns to him – startled, shocked. Her eyes finally meet his, and he's reminded of _home, _and of everything and everyone that he's ever believed in. He's reminded of what he tries to fight for every day, and what both of them had waited long enough to enjoy. Her hazel eyes soften, but also grow afraid and pained. As he locks his gaze with hers, he realizes that she had not been expecting this.

"Luke…" she steps forward and places her small palms on his chest to try and calm him down. His shoulders slump and his sadness thickens, and now she's crying too. "Luke…"

"Just don't say it's over…just tell me it's _not _over."

She envelops him in her arms, and the both of them quake with sobs and emotion. He asks her, over and over again, until his question morphs into a statement, which he just keeps repeating to convince himself. "It's not over…"

Eventually there's a silence – a voice only filled by the cries of the two lovers as they stand with their bodies pressed up against one another. And then she speaks, her ringing out softly but clearly against the otherwise silent night.

"It's not over."

---

Eventually, Nathan drives her home. He and Haley had come over to the two of them after awhile, pulling apart the crying teenagers. At first Brooke had refused, but Haley was already guiding Lucas to his car, and she was honestly too drained to protest much when the younger Scott gently took the keys from her hand.

The ride home is silent. It's been dark for hours by now, and every time they pass a streetlamp, light floods the car – a stark contrast to her otherwise gloomy demeanor. Brooke chooses to stare out the window, although more than once she can feel Nathan's concerned gaze on her. When they pull up to her house, she expects him to say goodbye, and begin the mile walk back to the apartment he shares with his wife, but instead he silently follows her up the driveway.

He doesn't look surprised when she opts for the side door to her bedroom, instead of entering the house from the front. That's when Brooke remembers that he spent years going in and out through her bedroom door in middle school – back when they were close friends, and both sick of her parents constantly trying to get them together. The bedroom is dark, and he stands uncertainly in the doorway as she moves to the center of the room, pausing momentarily as if the new environment disorients her.

Eventually she walks to the closet and, after disappearing inside for a moment, reappears with a large t-shirt and a pair of boxers in her arms. She begins to undress.

"Uh," Nathan says, clearing his voice as she pulls her cheerleading uniform over her head. A flash of skin appears before she dons the large t-shirt, and he involuntarily shuts his eyes, although she's clearly not uncomfortable about changing in front of him. "What were you and Lucas talking about?

He asks her in a soft voice, as if that will somehow make the question less difficult to answer. She just sighs, pulling on the boxers and then gathering her hair up into a messy bun. Then she shrugs – lifting her shoulders and then letting them sag. "I don't really know."

"Did you uh…I mean, are you still…"

"We didn't break up," Brooke responds in a quiet voice – one that is so unlike her. "But I don't really know what we _are _right now."

Nathan takes a step forward and guides her towards her bed. "You should get some sleep," he mutters as she slips between her cool sheets. It isn't until now that he notices that the 't-shirt' she's wearing, is really one of Lucas's old jerseys, and she seems to curl up inside it, and lose herself in it.

"Hey Nate?" she asks as he pulls the blanket over her. The 'R' on her cheek has smudged from the tears, and her eyes are still red – her cheeks blotchy. "Thanks for taking me home."

He smiles and nods, moving to leave, although there's so much he wishes he could say to her. In moments like these – moments where she really lets herself be vulnerable – she reminds him so much of the preteen he used to know. She looks scared and small, and despite the fact that their friendship is so much less legitimate than it used to be, he finds himself wishing he could share her what he's really thinking.

At the door, he does.

"I'm sorry, Brooke."

She opens her eyes. "For what?"

He shrugs. "Go to sleep, Brooke."

Then he's gone. That's enough sharing for tonight.

---

"I want to know what's going on with you and Brooke."

He's never sounded this angry before – at least not in front of her – so when Peyton answers her door on Tuesday morning to be met by a very disheveled and upset looking Lucas, she's rather surprised.

"What do you mean?"

He pushes past her into the foyer, without an invitation. "I want to know why she's so upset with you."

"Luke…we already talked about this."

"No." He shakes his head. His voice is firm. "I know Brooke. Despite what she may think, I know her better than anyone. Better than you, or Nathan, or Haley, or even her own fucking parents, _ever _will. And the Brooke Davis _I _know would never stay angry at her best friend of _10 years _over you kissing me _once, _while you were bleeding."

Peyton closes the door with a sigh. What she had been hoping would turn out to be a relatively up beat day, regardless of the conversation she and Brooke had the night before, was now rapidly turning into a dreadfully unbearable one.

"What did you say, Peyton. _Please." _

She looks up at him and is surprised to find that he's pleading with her. Any prolonged anger he may have felt towards her is slowly fading away, and he's crumbling. He's not mad – he's heartbroken. And she's starting to wonder if the relationship that she had assumed to be doing reasonably well, is in reality disintegrating by the second.

"I told her that I still had feelings for you."

She says it quickly – as if ripping off a Band-Aid just to get it over with. And then there's this awful silence, one that seems to rip their friendship apart at the seams. Lucas steps back, looking shocked – speechless.

"I'm sorry," she finally says, simply because she needs anything to fill this terrible quiet, and because she truly is _sorry. _For everything.

"I thought this was all over," he mutters, squeezing his eyes closed.

"Wh – what?"

"I thought it was all OVER!" He yells this time, quickly opening his eyes once more. "This! US! You can't just say something like that – you can't just all of a sudden _feel _something like that. Don't you get it?"

"I know…I know! And I'm sorry. It's just – I had just visited Jake…_Jake _of all people. And he said some things, and I guess I wasn't thinking clearly…"

"I can't do this right now." He pushes past her and pulls open the door. "You know Peyton – you'll always be one of my closest friends. But I don't know how we'll get past this if you make me lose the first, and _only, _girl I've ever loved."

When he's gone – the door slamming in her face – Peyton expects the love comment to hit close to home for her. She expects to feel sad and hurt. For some reason, all she feels is empty.

---

He's not in school. It's the first time he's ever cut school for the whole day – although there have been numerous attempts on Brooke's part to get him to come to the beach with her on particular nice Friday mornings, to no avail.

In Health class, Ms. Garber notes Lucas's empty chair.

"Ah, Miss Davis, where's your better half?"

Brooke, clad in sweatpants and a thermal long sleeve shirt, turns miserably to the chair next to her, and then looks down onto the desk. She tries to search for a witty remark – one that would require her to reveal the least details of her personal life, as she knows every member of the class is hanging on to her answer – but none comes. Instead, she dumbly responds, "I don't know."

The rumors are ridiculous. Nobody, save for Haley and Nathan, know the details of the fight between Brooke and Lucas – only that it happened. Still, the brunette moves through the hall, in a daze, but acutely aware of the whispering nonetheless.

Bevin and Theresa, girls she used to make-out with to get guys' attention at parties, and whom she used to tell _everything _to, are apparently informing everyone that Lucas cheated. If it was this time last year, and she had just lived through his and Peyton's betrayal, she would have believed it in an instant. But it's not. So she dismisses it as a rumor, knowing fully well that the boy she has given her heart to now, can barely even look at another girl, let alone sleep with one.

The football team is spreading nasty gossip that Brooke got pregnant, and then had an abortion without telling Lucas. The catch? The father was really her Calculus teacher – a 30-year-old married man. That one hurts more – her reputation for being a slut clearly hasn't escaped the group of boys she used to flaunt herself in front of on Friday nights.

There's even talk going among the faculty that something has gone seriously wrong. The History department is buying into the rumor that Brooke and Lucas had gotten themselves involved in something illegal – and are currently dealing with the awful repercussions.

No matter what people believe – no matter what awful falsehood someone has made up – everyone seems to think that the two of them have broken up. It gives Brooke a sense of helplessness, as people claim things that she's more unable than unwilling to refute.

At her locker – in some passing time between two classes, although she's unsure of which ones – she drops the pile of books she's been holding. They spill out across the hallway, but before she can bend down to retrieve them, someone else has already gotten to them.

She looks up to thank the guy. He's a senior she recognizes: Brett Weiss – captain of the soccer team – relatively good looking, but known to be a complete player. Before she can even open her mouth, she knows by the look on his face that he's looking for more than a thank you.

"I heard that you and that reject basketball player broke up," he says, stepping towards her with a smirk. "How about we get together again…you know – for old times sake?"

When he places the books back in her arms, he reaches down and rests a calloused hand on her hip. She flinches under his touch, and steps back as if burned.

"What's wrong, Davis? Out of practice?"

The hallway begins to spin, and she's getting that dizzying feeling that usually accompanies motion sickness. She manages to push away from him, amidst protests and jeers from him and his lurking cronies, setting off down the hall at a quickening and jerky pace.

_"For old times sake?"_

She can already feel the tears welling up in her eyes, and she doesn't understand what's _wrong _with her. A year ago she would have been flourishing under this kind of attention. Now she just feels repulsive – despicable.

Brooke has always been aware of her status and reputation of being a slut for the first 3 ½ years of her high school career. She just hadn't realized that she would feel this disgusted with herself when she couldn't remember hooking up with a guy that clearly remembered her. It makes her wonder how many other Brett Weiss's there are.

She finds her way into a janitor closet – welcoming the dark quiet. Sliding down the wall, she comes to rest on the cool linoleum, and places her head in her hands.

If she closes her eyes, she can imagine she's in Lucas's bed. She's waking up on a Sunday morning, curled up in his arms, enjoying the heat of his body next to her own. If she closes her eyes, she can barely picture all the guys she's had sex with. However, if she closes her eyes, she can very clearly picture the only boy she's ever slept with. And she never thought she'd say this – but that makes all the difference.

---

She used to be afraid of this. Back in the beginning, everything – this idea and experience of being in love – was so new, so daunting. Not much anymore, at all. This relationship has turned into a sort of constant in her life – disregarding the recent upset.

Tonight, she assumes that showing up at his door will make her feel weak – powerless. That somehow she's _lost_, and that he's the winner. That somehow, feeling so vulnerable would make her feel pathetic and dumb and fragile.

It doesn't.

Brooke pushes open his door, the door she's quietly snuck through more times than she can count, and, metaphorically speaking, she's stepping back into the relationship she used to hide from. The room is dark – and she wonders if he's been sleeping all day. Then she remembers that it's late – nearly 11 – and that Lucas is always one who needs his sleep. So does she.

He rolls over, as if on cue, right as she shuts the door quietly behind her. He opens his eyes, and there's a beat where they adjust to the darkness, before they come to rest on her.

"Hi," Lucas manages to croak out, as if her whole presence had taken him by surprise. She's never the one to show up – to make the first leap after a fight. She can see in his eyes, in the way that they cloud over at her presence, that he's still hurt – that he's feeling the same kind of pain and remorse and anger that she's been carrying around all day.

Somehow, she has found her way to be sitting on the edge of his bed. And in that time, he's sat up, and scooted himself towards her. And somehow, with some powerful emotional strength that she manages to pull out at the least expected times, she begins to speak.

"I don't remember the first guy I slept with."

It's a very odd thing to say – judging by the way they left things the previous night. But she's not surprised that he doesn't respond – he's the kind of guy that will just listen.

She continues. "I remember that I was 15, and I remember the night it happened, and that it was Nathan's beach house on a Friday night. But I was _so _drunk, and when I woke up and was finally sober, I was in my own bed. Apparently Nathan found me when I was passed out, dressed me, and drove me home."

Brooke manages to find the courage to look at him, and, for the first time tonight, is shocked by his expression. He doesn't look upset, or disappointed. He doesn't look angry or confused or disenchanted or disgusted. To be perfectly honest, he looks sympathetic.

"I really hadn't been a slut before then. I mean – that was the summer after my sophomore year – and up until then I had just sort-of been making out with guys at parties – you know, having fun.

After that, it all just started to not matter to me anymore. I thought that because I couldn't remember my first time, nothing after that would mean anything either. So sex turned into something that I just did on weekends for entertainment. And that's what it was for awhile – entertainment – teenage fun.

"But then it stopped being fun."

Now is when her voice starts to crack. The minute she started to speak, she had known she would cry. Revealing this to _anyone, _let alone Lucas, was more than she had ever expected to do. Yet here she is, pouring her heart out to the only boy she's ever loved.

"It started to be this thing that I was expected to do. Something that I _had _to do. That's when everything just turned emotionless for me." She pauses. "But then _you_ finally came along, and began to crack this hard façade that I had put up in front of everyone. And then you let me down."

There's this long silence, and she realizes that he's probably thinking that she's done speaking. In reality, what she's just told him isn't as half as hard as what she has to say next. Blindly, in the dark, she reaches for his hand. When she intertwines her fingers with his, and feels the warmth of his palm against the cool smoothness of her own, she somehow finds the courage to press on.

"I love you, Luke," she murmurs, and he breathes out, as if he's been holding his breath for her to say that this whole time. "I love you so much that it scares me. But, believe it or not, relationships are new to me. _This _is new to me. This kind-of heart-wrenching, amazingly painful, love, is new to me. Falling asleep next to someone, and not waking up in an empty bed, is new to me. When we have sex…" At the mention of sex, he blushes, and breaks his stare for just a second. It's adorable. "When we have sex, it's more than just sex. You hold me like you never want to let go of me. And you kiss me like you never want to stop kissing me. That's _new _to me." She pauses for the final time. "I've just been scared all along that someone is going to try and take this away from me. Take _you _away from me. And I don't know if I can handle that again."

She's done. She's also stopped crying – although silent tears continue to stream down her face. Now he's staring at her with the same kind-of expression of wonder and amazement and happiness and elation that he gave her the night they reunited.

In one fell swoop, he pulls her down to the bed. He wraps her up under the blanket with him, and curls his body around her own. He nuzzles her neck with his lips, and snakes his hand underneath her shirt to rest on her warm stomach.

"I love you so much," he breathes into her ear. His words are filled with the most complex of emotion – all of which she is too drained to decipher at this moment. But for once, she doesn't need to analyze his expression. She doesn't to analyze the tone of his voice, or the exact wording of his phrase. He speaks to her simply, and she immediately understands.

Shifting slightly in his arms, Brooke turns her face so their noses are touching. She closes the gap between their mouths, letting her lips rest on his for a matter of seconds, before settling her face in the crook of his neck.

They lay like this for awhile – their bodies pressed up against one another – their hearts beating at the same rhythm. Eventually, she feels sleep beginning to take her. He must notice it as well, because he whispers one last thing to her before she drifts into unconsciousness.

"I am _never _letting go of you."

---

**A/N #2: **So, nice little speech from Brooke there, huh? Now I know you're all thinking that suddenly all of Brooke and Lucas's relationship woes have been solved, but check the chapter title again, and be warned.

This last scene was mainly meant to show that the insecurities that both Brooke and Lucas have had in regards to their relationship have basically been resolved. But not all relationship drama is derived from insecurity. They aren't going to just live in their happy bubble of love. Yes, Brooke's jealousy over Peyton has been resolved. But where does that leave their friendship? What about LP's friendship? Two chapters ago, the true nature of Brooke's father was revealed. How will that strain BL's relationship. I also planted hints in this chapter at a forthcoming plotline that will present itself in the upcoming chapters. I will be rather pleased if someone can figure it out ;).

Okay, that's enough rambling for now. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I'm hopefully going to update **Soon Enough **this weekend, if I have time. Now I know some of you wanted me to update **Breathe Me **(*cough*cough*…Corey…*cough*), but it's been ages since I updated SE, and I owe those loyal readers.

Thank you so much for the reviews last chapter. It really means a lot to me to know what you guys think, so keep it up! I love them!

xoxo Emma


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